Broken Glass
by crazypurple123
Summary: "He couldn't take it anymore. Nobody seemed to understand, and he bled away that pain with every stroke of his blade." When Mikey Way is jumped and raped, he feels alone and lost. He viciously pushes away his friends and family. What will he do with the regret of having nobody, and the pain of having his childhood taken away? Warnings for mention of rape, self-harm, depression. R
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

He bled away the memories with every cut, trying not to cry. It was his only release; Nobody could know what had happened to him a month before. He was embarrassed, ashamed, and felt dirty, and it seemed no one cared.

He had only been walking home from school when that guy jumped him and pulled him into the alley. He remembered the air being cold as the man swore at him, smacking him every time he sobbed. He remembered how bad it hurt, and the hurt left him nothing but an empty shell. Every bit of his child-like innocence was stolen in a flash, and nobody could help him or do anything about it.

He winced at the burn as he slid the razor blade along the pale skin of his wrist, beads of red breaking to the surface. A tear escaped his empty eyes. "Fuck," he muttered, watching as the blood dripped. He grabbed a cloth and began to wipe up the fluid before making more, a little less deep. His skin was already tainted with pale scars from cuts and a few burns, his thighs in just as bad of shape. It was a miracle his parents or Gerard didn't notice the amount of long-sleeved shirts and sweaters he wore.

"Mikes? Are you okay in there?" He heard his brother's voice call through the door. "Are you crying?" Panicked, Mikey slipped the blade under his pillow and fought to put his shirt on. It was too late, though. Gerard was standing in the open doorway, looking flustered, his dark brown hair hanging in his face. He took one look at Mikey's scars and tensed, walking over cautiously. "Mikey…"

"Don't," He snapped, making Gerard flinch back. "Don't lecture me. Don't call me stupid." He wiped at his blood-stained arms and choked back a sob.

"But…why, Mikes? Why are you doing this to yourself?" He sat down calmly beside his brother and grabbed his arms. He touched the scars gently. Mikey closed his eyes and let his head fall back, trying to fight back tears.

"Because, Gerard. You wouldn't understand. This is just how I…deal," he lied. In part it was true, but it wasn't the whole truth. He didn't need to know about the rape and all the pain and secrets. Those were his demons to carry, and his alone.

"You need to talk to someone. You'll end up killing yourself this way," Gerard stated calmly. He put down Mikey's arm and tried to pull him into a hug, but Mikey yanked himself away. His expression was bitter and cold.

"Don't touch me." Gerard looked at him, wide-eyed. His brother had never pushed him away like that. It only made him more curious.

"C'mon, Mikey. This isn't normal for you. Tell me what happened." As much as Mikey wanted to tell him, he couldn't. He just stared at his poster covered wall and blinked back tears, but they came anyways at full force. Letting out a wet, muffled sob, he put his head in his hands as Gerard pulled him close.

"Gee…don't tell anyone, okay?" Gerard nodded and stroked his hair back comfortingly. He had done this since Mikey was a little kid, from the times he scraped his knees or had nightmares. For the moment he felt like he had failed as a big brother for letting anyone hurt him. "Remember when I came home that one day all bruised and bleeding, and I said some bullies beat me up?"

"Yeah," was all Gerard could say. He knew he wouldn't like what was going to come next.

"Th-that's not true. I was walking home, and…and-" He couldn't finish before breaking down, soaking Gerard's shirt in tears. Tearing up himself, Gerard held on to him for dear life. He never wanted to let go. Mikey was one of the few people he truly cared for, and it really hurt to see him in pain.

"Shhh…" he soothed. "It'll be okay." He began to rub Mikey's back, trying to calm him.

"This huge guy jumped me…and…he-" Mikey paused and sniffled. "He raped me, Gerard! I can't take it anymore. He just took everything away and left me there, bleeding in that alley!" He began to weep again. Gerard just sat there in shock as they held each other. This was far from what he expected. He had to get his baby brother help, and fast.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Will you be okay?" Gerard asked as he stood in the doorway of Mikey's room. He had confiscated the blades to Mikey's protests, wanting to have the peace of mind that he couldn't hurt himself.

"I think so." Mikey shuffled under the covers in his bed, the white sheets still stained with blood. He tried not to think about it. "I'm sorry, Gerard." He looked up at his big brother with sparkling brown eyes, the same ones he used to get his way when they were younger.

"For what?" Gerard asked gently.

"For letting you down." Gerard opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't think of what to say. Instead, he flicked off the lights and exited the room.

"Goodnight, Mikes. I love you," he said softly, leaving Mikey alone in the darkness. Feeling somewhat guilty and completely exhausted, Gerard tiptoed to his room, not wanting to wake his parents. He stripped off his shirt and jeans and crawled under the covers of his small bed, basking in the warmth.

It didn't take long to fall asleep. On his nightstand was a comic he had been wanting to read, but was too drained to finish it. He could only turn over and close his eyes, letting sleep envelope him.

In what felt like only a few minutes, but was probably a good hour, he woke to the sound of shuffling. He opened his eyes a crack to see a figure, a blanket slung over their shoulder. It didn't take long to realize it was Mikey.

Something stopped him from speaking, from wondering why his brother was in his room in the middle of the night. Rather than ponder about it, he watched as Mikey lied down on the carpeted floor and pulled the blanket around himself, his breath quivery. For an hour Gerard watched as his baby brother tossed and turned, talking in his sleep. When he started to doze again, he was snapped awake by screaming, loud and terrified.

Mikey was thrashing on the floor, yelling at the top of his lungs, tears streaming down his face. He kicked the blanket on him away, screams mixed with sobs. Gerard jumped up and collapsed to his knees beside the sweaty, petrified boy, coaxing him to breathe and calm down.

"It was just a dream, Mikes. Just a dream…" He let his voice wander as Mikey sobbed onto his bare shoulder, the tears hot and sticky. "Shhh…" He rubbed the small boy's back and held him tight, wishing for his own agony to disappear, wishing for his brother's pain to go away. He hated seeing Mikey scream like a small child who had a nightmare. He knew this wasn't just a normal bad dream; He had had a night terror, and he hadn't had one since he was a little kid.

He could remember Mikey screaming in the middle of the night for several minutes when he was about six years old, Gerard eight at the time. He remembered hearing crashing as he tossed violently in his bed, keeping Gerard awake for hours. It had stopped a year later, but was now beginning again.

"I'm here, Mikey. It's okay," he whispered. Mikey just let out a muffled cry and threw his arms around Gerard's neck, holding him for dear life. "Come on. Do you want to sleep in my bed?" He felt like a mother taking care of her crying child, but he would do anything for Mikey. He was only sixteen, after all, and still just a kid.

He helped Mikey, who was shaking uncontrollably, into the bed, helping him under the covers.

"Gee?" Gerard looked down at Mikey, his voice shaken slightly.

"Yeah?" Gerard began to pick up objects that Mikey had kicked out of his way, smoothing the blanket he was going to sleep on.

"Can you lay with me, just until I fall asleep? Please?" Gerard smiled lopsidedly and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Sure. Anything to help you sleep." He lied down and held Mikey close, feeling the roughness of the scars on his wrists. He soon felt Mikey go limp with exhaustion before falling into a fitful sleep. For a few minutes all Gerard could do was stare at the ceiling and listen to his even breathing until he fell asleep himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Gerard woke up on the floor, tangled in the blankets while Mikey slept like a baby on the bed. He was spread-eagle, taking up the entire mattress. He couldn't help but smile, because his little brother looked so peaceful. He looked nothing like the screaming, sobbing mess he had been hours before

Deciding to let him sleep, Gerard got up and placed the blanket on the bed over Mikey's still body. He made his way out of the room and bounced down the stairs, his mind slightly rested. He couldn't help but worry, though. He knew it would take a long time to get over what he had been through, and even then, it would still burn forever in his mind.

Shaking away the thoughts, Gerard entered the kitchen where his mother greeted him. She smiled warmly as she poured a cup of coffee, but something in her eyes was curious.

"Did anything weird happen last night?" Gerard gulped, trying to play it cool with the question. "I barely saw you or Mikey, and I thought I heard screaming in the middle of the night. Did something happen?"

Gerard opened his mouth to respond with a clever lie, but Mikey interrupted as he shuffled downstairs. He smiled slightly, but looked tired and worn-out. Gerard took in the fact he was wearing a grey sweatshirt, and it was an early autumn morning. His Mom seemed to notice, too.

"Good morning, Mikey. What's with the sweatshirt?" Mikey kept his cool and shrugged.

"Just cold, I guess." A ghost of a smile played on his lips. If he had been in his brother's position, he would have probably freaked out and spilled his guts. Mikey just kept the painted- on smile and poured a bowl of cereal. "Morning, Gee."

Gerard finished stirring his coffee and sat down at the table beside Mikey, who was greeting him kindly. "How was your sleep, Mikes?" He shot Mikey a look, who nodded in understanding.

"Good. Really good, actually." He devoured the rest of his cereal and jumped up, nearly falling over the chair. Gerard kept his fake smile, but really, his worry for Mikey dug deep in his bones.

The kitchen was the same, the same one they had been eating in since they were born, but something was different about it. There was a tense atmosphere, as if his Mother knew something was going on. He knew she suspected that something was wrong, yet she did nothing, and that frustrated Gerard to no end. He watched as Mikey escaped up the stairs, waiting a moment before chasing him.

He entered Mikey's room, this time without knocking. To his relief, there was no blade in Mikey's hand or fresh cuts on his skin, and his eyes were vacant of tears. The only thing he held was the emptiness in his eyes.

"I don't even know if I feel anymore, Gerard," he said, not looking up. He was examining a thread on his jeans as if it were an alien specimen. " I feel like a case, a shell of nothing. It feels like all my emotions were torn from me with every bad thing that he did." Gerard's heart lurched.

"I'm going to get you help. You need to talk to someone." Mikey's eyes widened.

"No. You're not taking me to a damn shrink. I won't go." He crossed his arms at his chest and pulled his knees together tightly, as if it would make him disappear.

"I'm not talking about that. You need to talk to someone, like, I dunno, Ray, maybe. He's your best friend, Mikes. He could help." Mikey kind of half-nodded, but still looked unsure. Placing a hand on his broken brother's shoulder, he tried to reassure him. "Trust me. He'll understand."

Mikey only nodded again. Maybe Gerard was right. He and Ray had been best friends since elementary school, and knew everything about each other. Well, _almost _everything.

"Why don't you give him a call?" He handed over his cell phone to Mikey, who took it reluctantly and began to dial Ray's number. He left the room, leaving the two boys to talk in private, closing the door behind him. He jumped at the sight of his Mother, standing just outside the door. She looked at him, curious.

"What's going on with you two? You're being so secretive." Gerard did his best teenager eye-roll and leaned against the wall.

"Nothing, Mom. God, can't I have a bit of privacy?" His Mom's eyes widened.

"You two aren't, like, together, are you?" She gulped. "I don't think I could handle that." Gerard felt his face turn red and horrified.

"Jesus Christ, Mom! What the hell?" He shoved her aside and stomped off to his room. "There's nothing to worry about! We're not sleeping together!" He slammed the door behind him and flopped back on his bed. A part of him wanted to have never walked in on Mikey, to never know what had happened. He wanted to return to how things were, where Mikey was throwing balls of paper at him while he was trying to draw or playing his bass late at night. He hadn't seen his brother cry out of emotional pain before, and he was naïve to think he never would. He couldn't stay a little kid forever.

A few minutes later, he heard Mikey's voice in the hall, soft and happy. Their Mom's voice was responding, and he knew Mikey was asking if Ray could come over.

_Progress, _he thought to himself. He heard their Mom respond with a simple 'yes', then the hall was silent again. He pulled out his sketchpad and began to draw, but couldn't concentrate. When Ray got there, he wanted to see him, but would have to leave the two boys to talk. He only could here about the conversation later, if Mikey would tell him.

A few minutes later, he heard Ray's voice calling up the staircase, somewhat worried. Mikey must've told him something was wrong. Sighing, he stood up and opened his bedroom door where a confused, bushy-haired Ray was.

"Looking for Mikey?" asked Gerard, earning an eager nod.

"He said we needed to talk about something, and usually that means something bad. Where is he?" Gerard nodded towards Mikey's room across the hall.

"He's over there. Knock first." Ray nodded, his hair bouncing, his expression still nervous and concerned. He settled back into his room, wondering how it would go.

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Mikey perked up at the banging on his door, sweating with anxiety. He was worried how Ray would react; He wasn't judgemental, but got upset very easily. He was a pretty sensitive guy.

Sighing, Mikey jumped up and opened the door. Ray looked just as pale and worried as Mikey felt, but he swallowed his fear and lead his friend in.

"So…what's up?" Ray asked, his entire body tense. He looked like he was holding secrets, too, but that didn't matter. Ray always looked like that.

"Well, you're my best friend, Ray. Whatever I tell you, you can't tell anyone, okay?" Ray nodded. His forehead was glistening with sweat.

"Yeah. Of course."

"I-I've been hurting myself, Ray." As he spoke, he raised his hoodie sleeve to reveal his wrist. His sight was blurred with threatening tears. Ray let out a small gasp and took Mikey's wrist, touching the scars gently.

"Why, Mikey? Why the hell are you doing this?" His voice cracked. He let go and looked down. "What happened?"

Mikey's breath caught in his throat when he began to speak. "This guy…he attacked me, and…raped me. It hurts, Ray, and there's nothing I can do about it!" He sniffled as a tear rolled down his cheek, his body shaking with suppressed sobs. He felt Ray pull him into a friendly hug.

"It's okay, Mikey. Let it all out. Just…" Mikey began to sob into his shoulder, his best friend's scent comforting. He had gotten so used to the feel of Ray's arms, his collarbone and the way he smelled like sweat and peppermint. It felt like home, like hugging a family member.

"I'm sorry," was all he said, confusing Ray.

"Why should you be sorry? It's not your fault, Mikes. It's not your fault…" His voice trailed off as he clutched Mikey's back.

Truth was, he had been in love with Mikey since they were eight years old. They had been on the playground, and he had fell on his knee and scraped it. Mikey was by his side, trying to stop his crying by kissing the scrape, then kissing his cheek. He had hugged Ray tightly and reassuringly, the same way Mikey was being hugged now. It was like he was returning the favour, but this time, Mikey's wound was bigger.

"Remember that time on the playground?" Ray asked. Mikey nodded.

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?" He nestled into Ray's chest and sighed.

"Well, you kissed my scrapes, trying to get rid of the pain. I think I have to return the favour." He took Mikey's scarred, healing wrist and kissed each place he had marked, his lips soft on the skin. Mikey tensed, a thousand emotions running through his head. Did Ray like him? Even worse, did he like Ray?

"Ray," he said, the name slipping out of his lips. "Do…do you like me?" Ray looked up, his toffee eyes sad. He kissed Mikey's cheek lightly, the same way Mikey had eight years before.

"I don't know, Mikes. I honestly don't know." Mikey's face was an adorable shade of pink, his glasses crooked. "I mean…I think I do." Mikey just stared, not sure what to think. The one emotion that wasn't viciously stolen from him was his ability to love, and he thought he felt something for this boy. He was so understanding, kind…and his lips were so soft.

"I…I think I like you, too. I don't know though." He let out a loud sigh. I'm so confused." Ray pulled him close again and ran his finger through Mikey's soft hair, wiping away his tears.

"I know, Mikes. I know exactly how you feel." He planted a kiss on the top of Mikey's head.

"I can help you. I can be there to talk, and-" Mikey's eyes widened slightly.

"I don't think you can. I'm broken, Ray. Nobody can fix broken glass." His tone was calm, but there was an edge to his voice.

"I can try-" Mikey pulled away completely.

"No, you can't! Don't you understand! I was fucking _raped, _Ray! Someone decided to take away every little part of me, every bit of feeling of happiness. I have nothing!" Ray pulled back, his usually calm, content eyes full of the pain of rejection.

"I'm sorry, Mikey. I just thought-" He blinked back tears. This was his worst nightmare come true, the one person he loved hating him.

"You should go." Mikey had pulled his sleeves down again, his knees hugged to his chest.

"Wh-what?" Ray asked, almost in disbelief.

"Leave." When Ray didn't move, he dropped his arms and raised his voice. "I said go, Ray! Leave me the hell alone!" Ray grabbed his keys and rushed away, holding back tears as he ran out the door. Mikey watched him regretfully, sniffling as Ray slammed the door behind him.

Mikey sat there on his bed, tears streaming down his face. He itched to cut, to punish himself for being cruel to Ray. He only wanted to be loved, and he crushed the only hope he had.

Since Gerard had taken his blades, he began to look for a substitute, anything. He pulled out his school bag and dug around, eventually finding a protractor. The tip was plenty sharp enough to break skin.

He touched it to the sensitive skin. At that point he wanted to dig deep enough to bleed out, to bleed so much he wouldn't wake up. Something stopped him. Maybe the thought of how Gerard would react, maybe how Ray would wake up and find out the one person he loved was gone. Whatever it was, he didn't go deeper than usual.

It seemed to hurt less, as if the tears that ran down his cheeks hurt more than the cuts themselves. He thought of Ray, then Gerard, and what he would do if he was caught. He finished up and wiped away the blood, placing a band-aid over one of the deeper cuts. At the moment he pulled down his sleeves and wiped away his tears, Gerard walked in, holding a cup of coffee.

" I heard yelling. I take that it didn't go well?" Mikey just nodded, his bangs hanging in his face.

"I said some really bad things, and we fought, and I kicked him out." He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid, Mikes. You're just confused and hurting, and I won't ever judge you for that. I'll always be here. Give Ray a chance to get used to the idea." Gerard sipped the coffee in his hand, grimacing at the taste. "This coffee is nasty."

Ignoring him, Mikey let out another exasperated sigh. "I think he's in love with me." He put his chin in his hands, hunching over even more.

Gerard raised an eyebrow. "Um…wow. Just, wow." He paused, taking in the idea. "Do you feel the same way? I mean, I don't care if you do. I'd be cool with it, but…do you?" Mikey shrugged.

"I don't even know. We have this connection. Ever since we met, it's like he's always known me, without even knowing me. You know?" Gerard nodded, even though he actually didn't know. He had never been in love, ever.

"Yeah, Mikes, I know what you mean. I don't care what you choose. If you choose to get together with him, I'll be happy for you, as long as he makes you happy. And only if he doesn't hurt you."

Mikey cocked his head. "He'd never hurt me. I don't think he'd want to get together now, anyways. I went and fucked up any chance I had in the first place." Gerard's eyes went wide. Mikey rarely swore, and when he did, he didn't say things like 'Fuck.'

"It'll be okay, buddy. You're gonna get through this. Want me to phone Ray back for you?" Mikey shook his head, playing with his sleeves.

"You should've seen me yell at him, Gee. It was awful. I ripped chunks out of him, and all he could do was stand there and look crushed until I told him to leave." He took a deep breath. "I'm such a jerk."

"You're not a jerk. I don't know what I'm gonna do with you, Mikey. I can't convince you that you're not a bad person. A bad person tried to change you. I think you're letting yourself be changed." His voice had an edge to it, but he didn't snap. Instead, he just shook his head at Mikey and walked away, disappointment flooding his veins.

He stomped downstairs and grabbed his jacket, convinced a walk could cool his rising temper. He and Mikey never fought, and when they did, it felt bad. Gerard usually walked away with a guilty conscience and a headache.

He hoped Mikey wouldn't cut behind his back. He could only pray his brother would just kick a wall or something, but figured that wouldn't be the outcome. He would have to check when he got home.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

He hadn't realized he had been crying until people on the street started staring, one lady asking if he was okay. The cool air felt soothing on his face, the tears like an icy ointment to his burning skin. He wiped them away with his palms in quick stroking motions, kicking a stone out of the way as he walked.

The sun was sinking lower in the sky, a bulb of fading flames. People in the street rushed to and fro, talking on cell phones or to each other. Cars whizzed by, sending crunchy fall leaves up in the air.

Gerard exhaled and walked on, his feet dragging on the cement. He didn't know where he was going; He just had to get out. He tried to remember the place that his friends used to always go to loosen up and party, but couldn't remember the name. He figured it was called The Pit, because that rung a bell inside his brain.

He wandered downtown for several more minutes, looking for the secret hideout where crappy bands played and teenagers got drunk. After almost an hour of searching he found it, an old, abandoned restaurant at the end of the street. A homemade sign was hanging from chicken wire, 'The Pit' painted on sloppily. So far, nobody had reported the noise or the underage drinking, and the cops didn't seem to care.

He pushed through the creaky door and entered the unfamiliar atmosphere, nearly choking on the scent. It was a mixture of sweat, booze and cigarette smoke. The noise was just as bad, a boy at the microphone singing Iron Maiden covers in a scratchy voice.

He looked around, hoping to find someone he knew, but was unsuccessful. The room was full of strangers, drinking, smoking and spitting. In the corner a couple were making out, and a guy was fighting with the large-breasted bartender. People danced and sang along to the scratchy-voiced boy.

It felt anything but comfortable.

He looked around nervously before deciding to grab a drink. Hands in pockets, he trudged to the bar, sitting on a hard, wooden stool. The guy beside him scowled and took a sip of his beer before stomping away.

"What can I get you?" The girl who was bartending was anything but ugly, with dyed violet hair and a glittering smile. She looked no more than seventeen, and much too innocent to be working at a place like this.

"Um…" He stuttered. "I'll just have a beer, thanks." She looked shocked at the fact that he had said 'Thanks'. His suspicions were confirmed only a moment later.

"You're new here, aren't you?" Gerard nodded, hiding his eyes behind his hair. She slid a glass bottle across the table and he took it, cracking the top open with his teeth.

"Yeah. Just needed to get away, you know? This seemed like a decent enough place." To his surprise, she laughed.

"This place? Decent? This place is a hole full of scumbags. I get groped and whistled at on an hourly basis, and get some kind of alcohol spilled on me just as often." Gerard shook his head.

"The world is full of dicks." For a moment his mind wandered to Mikey, but he washed the thought away with a swallow of the semi-cold beer. The music pounded his eardrums, his heart racing with the beat. The girl chuckled and continued arranging glasses on the shelf behind her.

"That one's on me, just because you're nice." She winked, her full, dark eyelashes like a small fan. "But don't expect that all the time." He smiled and sipped the foam gathering at the opening, cool on his lips.

About a dozen beers later, he was chatting with the bartender, learning that her name was Diana. He began to talk about his brother, about his problems, even mentioning the rape situation. She just shook her head and repeated the same words Gerard had said earlier.

"The world is full of dicks." He could only agree and crack his thirteenth beer, his head spinning. By the time he finished it, he wasn't feeling the hottest, as he had never really gotten drunk before. His stomach was burning, along with his brain, but at the same time everything felt right. He wandered out into the shuffling, cheering crowd, drink in hand, bumping into people. He tucked some strands of hair behind his ear and began head banging, sweat flying everywhere. He managed to kiss someone's girlfriend and get into a small fight before nearly getting kicked out.

"You're gorgeous." He sat at the bar again, talking to Diana. "I mean, you're like, really hot." She blushed and waved Gerard away.

"Are you just saying that because your wasted?" Gerard shook his head and grabbed her hand. She let out a squeak of surprise.

"No, you're really pretty and nice and understanding. Wanna, um, get out of here?" His words were slurred as if his mouth was full of jelly. His entire body felt the same way.

"Um, I don't know, Gerard…" She sounded unsure and was playing with her bright hair, twisting it through her long fingers.

"Come on! Pleeaase!" He begged, lacing his fingers through hers.

She sighed and smiled. "Sure. Why not?" She said, giving in. "Derek! You're on for the rest of the evening!" A husky guy in a sweatshirt came around the corner, holding a pitcher of beer. Gerard pulled her around the counter and out the door, where they ran out into the night. It was pitch black out and raining, cool water spraying on Gerard's face.

"Where are we going?" Diana asked, her eyes curious.

"You'll see." Was all Gerard said before yanking her down the sidewalk.

They arrived at the park in only a few minutes, standing in front of the pond. It was a beautiful sight, the water still like glass, the moon reflected in it. Diana smiled sweetly and turned to face Gerard.

"You're a really sweet guy, Gerard. I'm sorry about your brother." He shoved all thoughts of Mikey aside and touched the small girl's cheek lightly, his fingers cool and wet on her skin. In a second she had stood up on her tippy-toes, pressing her lips against Gerard's. She breathed him in, the sour taste of booze mixed with something sweet.

"I'm glad I met you tonight." He whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close. "I really like you." Their tongues brushed, deepening the kiss, and a moan escaped Gerard's lips.

They stayed like that for a long time, just them, the moon and the water. "Wanna go back to my place?" Diana asked, her eyes twinkling. Gerard thought for a moment, but his thoughts were too fogged up to remain straight, so he just nodded.

"I'd love to." They walked back through the sprinkles of rain, giggling and kissing, hands tightly bound.


	5. Chapter 5 (Final)

Chapter 5 (final)

"Ugh…what the hell?" Gerard moaned and rolled over, head aching and pounding. He was laying in an unfamiliar bed, in a stranger's room, and the stranger's room had Justin Bieber posters on the wall. _What happened last night? _For a second he was worried he had fucked some kid, but figured he knew better than to do that.

He was thoroughly shocked when a sleepy-eyed teenage girl wandered into the room, glass of water in hand.

"Oh! Gerard, you're awake! Here." He just stared at her in shock. She couldn't have even been of legal age. She looked barely sixteen in her face, but her body told a different story. She handed him the glass and a small pill, which he swallowed while still staring at her.

"Wh-what happened? Did we…" He didn't even need to finish the sentence. He was lying in the bed, completely naked, smelling of sweat. "Fuck." She shook her head.

"No, I agreed to it. You didn't like, rape me or anything." She sat down beside him and touched his hair. "You were really good." He jumped out of the bed, ignoring the vicious churning in his stomach.

"No. You're a fucking teenager, and…you look the same age as my brother-" He cut off mid-sentence with the thought of Mikey. "My brother.."

"The depressed one?" Gerard's jaw dropped. He still couldn't recall the events of the night before.

"How much did I tell you?" She shrugged.

"Pretty much everything. Everything but your age." He began to pull on his pants. "What? You're not staying?"

"Fuck no, I'm not staying!" He pulled his shirt over his head. "You're really a sweet girl, um…"

"Diana." She offered a sweet smile.

"Yeah. You're a sweet girl, Diana, but we can't be together. You're underage, and I have my brother who needs my attention first. Wait until you're eighteen, then we'll talk." He stood and opened the window, knocking over a poster in the process. "I'll see you around, Di."

Not knowing at all where he was, he called a cab to take him home. Something in his gut felt wrong, and it wasn't the booze his body was rejecting. Within seconds he was kneeling in one of Diana's Mother's shrubs, emptying his stomach of the toxic substance. He coughed and dry heaved until he fell backwards in the cool grass, breathing heavily. His insides turned while his head pounded.

The cab arrived when he stood, brushing the dirt and grass from his jeans. He smiled weakly and hopped in, giving his address which happened to be across town.

When he arrived, he tossed open the door. The house was quiet and still, even the usual sounds of his Mother's morning bumbling gone. The place was eerily silent.

"Hello? Mom? Mikey?" When he got no response, he shrugged to himself and started for the kitchen. Despite his hangover, he needed food, something to get rid of the taste of beer and vomit. He eventually settled on a cup of coffee and a donut that had been left out on the counter. He nibbled at it and bolted up to his room. Maybe his Mom didn't notice his absence.

He set the food down on his bedside table and walked to Mikey's room, wondering if he was still asleep. He creaked open the door slightly, whispering Mikey's name. The room looked the same, morning sun leaking through the windows. A poster hung crookedly on the wall, and his bass guitar was leaning in a corner.

"Mikes? You awake?" No response. "Mikey?" He opened the door completely, finding that Mikey wasn't even on his bed. All that was on the messed covers was a note.

Heart pounding, he raced over and snatched up the note, tears forming in his eyes with the first line.

_Dear Mom and Gerard,_

_If you are reading this, then I__'__m probably gone. I can__'__t take living like this anymore. Gerard, I love you. This was not your fault. I just couldn__'__t handle the stress of being alive anymore, living with the knowledge that I was raped. I__'__ve hurt people I love, hurt myself, and caused nothing but pain to those around me. _

_I love you both more than anything, and that__'__s why I did this. Mom, I love you. You did the best job of raising me and protecting me, and I__'__m sorry for not telling you about my problems. _

_Make sure Ray knows it's not his fault, either. Tell him that I really did have feelings for him, and that if there is a heaven, I'll be watching over him. I'll be waiting for him._

_I apologize to all of you for doing this, but the pain was too much to live with. I was living in agony every day, and by the time you read this, I won__'__t be. _

_I love you all more than my own life, but most of all, I__'__m sorry that you can__'__t fix broken glass._

_-Mikey_

Gerard stared at the note in disbelief. _This has to be a joke. This has to be some kind of sick joke to get back at me for running out. _

That's what he thought, but he didn't believe it. He collapsed to his knees and cried out Mikey's name, his mind racing. Everything felt all-too real. He bolted into the bathroom and gasped, a sob escaping his lips.

Mikey, his baby brother, whom he stayed up late, watched horror movies and read comics with, was laying on the floor. Both his wrists were split open in several places, blood ceasing to pour from them, his body still. A puddle of drying blood surrounded his body, a pocket knife only inches from his open hand. His skin was ghostly pale, some of it splattered with his own lifeblood.

"Mikey! Mikey, no! No!" He grabbed his brother's shoulders and shook him gently. He was wearing his favourite Misfits t-shirt, now stained with crimson. His hair was sticky with his own blood. "Mom!" He began to sob, his head in his hands, back shaking. "Mikes…" he whispered, just as his mother's footsteps stopped in the doorway.

She didn't say anything, only stood there in shock., a tear rolling down her cheek. "Gerard, call 9-1-1!" Her voice was calm, but trembling slightly. When Gerard didn't move, she snapped. "GO!"

Gerard ran tearfully to the living room and grabbed the phone, dialling the number he had hoped to never have to call.

"My brother…suicide…lots of blood…32B Jackson Street…hurry…" He finished the call and ran back to the bathroom where his mother was holding Mikey's body, crying and talking.

"He's gone, Mom. He's been gone for a long time. This just took away the last bit of life and pain he had left." He touched his mother's shaking shoulder, handing her the folded note.

The ambulance arrived minutes later, the paramedics tearing Mikey from his mother's grip. That was the last time they saw him.

Michael Lee Way arrived at the Oak Street hospital at 10:32 that morning, where a faint pulse was found. He was pronounced dead on October 16 at 10:45 AM.

_And if your heart stops beating, I'll be here wondering, did you get what you deserve? And if you get to heaven, I'll be here waiting, babe. Did you get what you deserve? The ending of your life…_

**Stay tuned for the sequel. **


End file.
